


Bet You're Gonna Tell Your Friends That I'm In Love With You

by flowercrownmikey



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abigail Breslin - Freeform, Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Hate to Love, Kind of crack fic, Kissing, M/M, No pun intended, That awful song, cute fic, it really sucks, mentions of yr 9, tiny bit of, you know the know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownmikey/pseuds/flowercrownmikey
Summary: "Bet she does cocaine at the grammys and shit."Michael has no fucking clue what they're going on about, honestly, but he still appreciates them nonetheless."Why'd she even write a song about you if she's not obsessed with you?"OR// Abigail Breslin has written a song, Michael is upset, and Luke has a few tricks up his sleeve.





	Bet You're Gonna Tell Your Friends That I'm In Love With You

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in one sitting sooooo long ago and found it in my notes just now. It's so old but still quite cute, so thought I'd post. Let me know if you like!! 
> 
> flowercrownmikey x

Its when Michael first opens twitter that morning that his life goes to shit. The first tweet in his timeline is from a fan he followed a while back, a young girl he met on tour who's mom had made him cookies and told him how much he means to her daughter. The cookies were nice, her words were sweet, and Michael likes to make the fans happy when he can. The girl had cried when he did it, and he knew because she tweeted about it, probably assuming he wouldn't see the tweet. 

      _ **randomfan:**  link is here warning its disgusting and michael deserves better i hope he's okay_

His eyebrows scrunch together as he scrolls down, because apart from a few random tweets from friends, most of the fans seem mad at something- something to do with him. He presses the icon to look at the trends, and his phone vibrates with a text from Calum; something long and in capitals that he doesn't bother to read before flicking his thumb across the screen to get rid of it. The first world-leading trend reads  _#AbigailYouTried_  and Michael freezes. 

He clicks on the link at the top of the trend, and is taken straight to YouTube. He doesn't know what to do when he see's Abigail Breslin's name in the title, pausing with a thousand thoughts all smashing his head up at once. It's not like- a thing, per say. A few weeks ago he met her at an awards night, and she'd very boldly given him her number and asked him out. The boys relentlessly, despite him oppressing them, told him to go, begged him even, until he called her on a private number and arranged something. 

On the night he was going out to dinner with her, Luke took him aside and told him he had a bad feeling about the whole night; that he's heard some things and it might be a bad idea. Calum pushed Michael out of the door and told him to get laid for once. He went out, he came back, he climbed into Luke's bed, told Luke he didn't like her like that and that nothing happened- and here was the dick move- he didn't call her again, despite knowing from a few people that she was asking around for a way to contact him. 

Calum calls him. He presses decline and plays the video. 

_I hate your dumb tattoo, I wish you'd fly to the moon-_

Calum calls him again. Decline. 

_Where there are no girls to use..._

He doesn't move for a solid three minutes once the video finishes, just stares as his screen goes black and his phone locks and he's staring at himself in the reflective glass. He looks at the bag under his eyes, how his hair is sticking up in every direction- a vibrant green color that he changed a few weeks ago. He looks at the scar above his eye, trailing his eyes over his face until he's locked eyes with himself and he can see the tears welling up on the screen. He tries to convince himself that he's not crying over some dumb video right now. 

His phone lights up with another call, this time from Luke, and for the first time since he was seventeen, Michael declines his call. 

He opens twitter again instead, knowing he shouldn't, and refreshes his feed. In the natural way of Michael Clifford, he ignores the thousands- hundreds of thousands, of supportive, amazing tweets, and picks out all the bad ones. His eyes scanning until he see's people agreeing, people laughing, people quoting the lyrics and tagging him in it to emphasise them. 

It's when a verified celebrity tweets about it that everything gets worse. 

       _ **randomcelebrity:**  @abigailbreslin Loving the song! Although I do wonder who this ugly band member may be... _

The first reply is a picture of him from the night out with Abigail, and then the celebrity tweets them back, with a winking emoji and a laughing one. When he see's the retweet count rising higher and higher, that's when he really starts to cry. 

he keeps scrolling, of course, but he doesn't really see anything through the blurriness of his eyes now. He blinks back frustrating tears before locking his phone and throwing it at the wall opposite his bed, ignoring whatever sounds it makes as it falls to the floor as he pulls the blanket over himself in cocoon form and curls up in silence. 

He's only laying there for around three minutes before there's knocking on his door, mumbling voices coming through the wood. Michael ignores them and hopes they go away. 

They don't, the boys all have keys to his hotel room, and the door opens seconds later, the boys being loud as they tumble in. 

"She's a grimy little bitch, and we all fucking hated her from the start." Calum says immediately upon entering, the door slamming behind them. Michael doesn't move from the cocoon he's created for himself.  

"Bet the only reason she gets movies is for her tits." Ashton adds, never truly one to be crude, so Michael appreciates the comments. He just groans loudly instead of an actual thanks, feeling the bed move, his cocoon being pulled apart. 

"She has resting bitch face, you know. I bet its to warn nice guys like you that she really is a fucking-" Calum rants. 

"Bitch." Ashton and Calum both say together, their voices louder with the blanket being lifted up. 

Luke climbs onto the bed beside him and shuffles so he's right against Michael before cocooning them in together, enveloping them in darkness. 

"She looks like she's on meth." Ashton says from the general vicinity of the hotel room. 

 Luke folds a leg over his and puts his arms around Michael's shoulders, snuggling Michael's head into his neck. 

"So do all of her friends." Calum agrees. "Bet she does cocaine at the grammys and shit." Michael has no fucking clue what they're still going on about, honestly, but he still appreciates them nonetheless. 

"Why'd she even write a song about you if she's not obsessed with you?" 

"She can't even  _sing_ , Michael. Did you  _hear_  her or were your ears bleeding too much like mine?"

"She's only written it to get publicity, because you're twice as famous as she is." 

"She may as well just call herself a less hot, less talented version of Taylor fucking Swift." 

"Guys! I think he gets it!" Luke shouts out of the blanket. "Go for a walk or something, I wanna talk to him." Ashton and Calum drag Abigail a little more as they leave the room and slam the door behind themselves, their voices (still ranting and angry) continuing to fade through the walls as they walk down the corridor of the hotel. 

Luke sighs as soon as they're out of earshot and curls up to him even more, pressing a kiss to the top of Michael's head like a worried mother. 

"I don't even care," Michael lies blatantly, voice quiet but stern. "It's whatever." 

Luke squeezes him harder. He's going to have to take drastic measures then, to make Michael open up to him. He sighs quietly to himself, ready to get embarrassed. "You remember when I made friends with Calum, and you hated me?"

"Jesus Luke, stop getting so hung up on that. I don't know  _why_  I hated you, okay?" He huffs.

Luke chuckles because it's such a  _Michael_ response, and then says quietly. "Not that." Before continuing. "Well, it really got to me, and this one day... I remember asking Calum if it was cause you didn't liked the way I looked or something."

"Are you serious?" 

"Yeah," Luke laughs. "It's funny now, but, I dunno, I was really insecure or whatever. And we'd never spoken, so I didn't know anything else you could hate me for. It got to me for the longest time, because even though Calum said it was just the way you were, in my head it was always because I was too ugly to be friends with people as good looking as you and Cal." 

"Why are you telling me this right now, Luke?" 

Luke hesitates for the longest time before whispering, "You can be the most insecure person in the world, and someone is still going to see you as the most beautiful person they've ever set eyes on." He presses another kiss to Michael's head. "Abigail Breslin may think your tattoo is dumb, but I know the meaning behind it, and I think it's amazing. And personally I think you're pretty fucking gorgeous, definitely out do me and Ash for sure. I mean, Calum's cheekbones are like, tying with your entire face but other than that." 

"Cal does have nice cheekbones." Michael agrees quietly. "And stop blatantly flirting with me, Lucas, your crush on me is getting so obvious." He jokes. 

Luke giggles, and nuzzles into him, "Yeah, sure..." 

"She really sucks," Michael mumbles. 

"She does," Luke replies, "Told you not to go out with her." 

"Thought that was just your jealous ass trying to keep me from going on a date, to be honest."

The blond huffs, mumbles, "Still." 

"Your crush on me will ruin this band." 

"Michael." 

"I'm serious, all the girls who want the cute lead singer find out he's actually really fucking gay for the guitarist that-" 

 Michael's cut off when Luke leans forward and kisses the side of his mouth under the blanket, smiling into skin before moving over and properly kissing his lips, closed mouth, just for a few seconds. 

"I'm not gay for you." 

"Then why'd you kiss me?!" Michael snorts. 

"Would've used tongues if I was gay for you, obviously-" 

Michael leans up and Luke smiles before pressing into him again, kissing him back to the bed, introducing tongue slowly - knowing Michael will make a comment about it afterwards. 

"You're using tongue," Michael whispers into his mouth, almost as soon as Luke's had the thought. 

Luke pulls away and starts struggling in the blankets. 

"Right, I'm getting out-" 

Michael laughs and pulls him back, fighting with him briefly since the blanket fort he's created around them is almost indestructible. Heavy breathing, he manages to pull Luke's face back to his own, "Kiss me again first." 

"You got a crush on me, or summat?" Luke whispers. 

"Kiss me before I cry about the video again." 

"Only if you promise it's utter bullshit, and you only hated me in Year Nine cause you fancied me." Michael makes some sort of squawking noise, and pushes him away, the blanket not letting him travel far. Luke laughs.  

"I did not fancy you in Year Nine!" 

"Fine," Luke says. Michael feels him cross his arms. 

"You absolute brat - fine, the video is bullshit. She doesn't even know me." 

"Thank you," he sounds relieved, "And?" 

"And I didn't fancy you in year-" 

"Michael, for God sake, just tell the kid you thought he was fit." He hears Calum say, somewhere in the vicinity of his hotel room again, apparently. His eyes widen. 

"I didn't!" He squeals, "When did you come back in here?" 

"Right after we left," Ashton adds. 

"You told me seconds after I introduced you to Luke that you hated him," Calum huffs, "Tell him why." 

"I hate you," Michael murmurs, "You asked why and I said... he's pretty and annoying, and I don't know whether I wanna punch him or kiss him." 

Calum says nothing, but he feels the blanket move as Luke does, feels a hot breath over his lips. 

"Tell me you've fancied me since Year Nine," he whispers. 

Michael's breath hitches. He licks his lips, whispers, "I've loved you since Year Nine." 

And they're kissing. They're kissing and Calum and Ashton are whooping somewhere beyond the blanket cocoon and Luke's grabbing his face and everything is fine, and he doesn't have a fucking clue why he was crying in the first place, because he's kissing  _Luke Hemmings_. 

"Bresglin's still a fucking whore," he hears Calum mutter, as they kiss. 

It doesn't matter anymore, but it makes him smile. 


End file.
